«25» Little game

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I let my fingers crack as I have been staring out of the window for hours. Just as Danny said those words, Leroy's voice rang out.

He called him so that he wouldn't notice that he was with me, Danny quickly ran away, but not without telling me that his father wasn't angry at all and that I should just give him another chance. Leroy was just so stressed and irritated because he couldn't find his father. 

I don't understand the world anymore, but that's nothing new. At the end of the day, Danny is just a kid. So who knows what he can put together, but I don't doubt that he is Leroy's son, because that explains Leroy's reaction when I approach Danny. Besides, he thinks I'm a spy and doesn't trust me. 

"Eh, Diego!" a man's voice snaps me out of my thoughts and makes me wince.

Perplexed, I blink and only now realize that Leroy's men have gathered down there. Right now, the gates open and a truck pulls up. Irritated, I form my eyes into slits to see everything better. What is being delivered at this late hour?

The men help the driver pull in properly with hand signals and shouts before the truck stops and two men get out. They all shake hands, some pat each other on the back amicably and they laugh delightedly, which tells me that these two men must surely be more of Leroy's people. 

Speaking of Leroy. 

He is joining the group and I can't take my eyes off him for a moment. He's in plain beige sweatpants and a beige, cozy turtleneck, and yet he exudes an incredibly dangerous aura.

It feels like death is approaching, even though he never really dresses sternly. And it seems that his men feel the same way because their conversations fall silent.

Leroy stops in front of the two men, takes a deep drag from his cigarette, and then raises his head. He says something to them, but I can't understand it because he speaks too quietly for that, even though my window is open a little.

Sighing, I try to make out what they are talking about through their facial expressions and gestures when the two men suddenly start laughing before turning and walking to the truck. Leroy turns around and takes a few steps back as the men are about to open the truck and I can't help but watch him.

His steps are casual and yet to outsiders they seem firm and purposeful. Smoke rises to the sky in front of his handsome face as he takes another drag on the cigarette before throwing the stub on the ground and stubbing it out with his foot. 

Relaxed, he buries his hands in his trouser pockets and leans against the wall, while his two men present him with what they have brought him. I finally avert my gaze from Leroy and look at his men, who are now leading strange packages wrapped in foil out on a folding trolley. 

At least I think they are packages because they are square.

Confused, I watch as they tap them proudly and let Leroy approach, who tears the foil at the top and peers inside. 

"That's the unique stuff of Colombia and back there is the stuff from Mexico, patrón," the slightly fatter guy laughs contentedly and as Leroy looks down at his hands with interest, I recognize the white powder. 

God, these are drugs!

Straining, I push the air out of my lungs and brace myself with both hands on the window sill to keep myself from slipping as Leroy lets the man draw a line first, apparently to check that he's not being fooled.

He does it without even asking and the moment he pulls the powder through his nose I shudder.

Leroy nods slowly and now sits down on a chair that is brought to him. Then three bound men are dragged out of the truck and thrown at his feet. I hold my breath while Leroy just demands to untie them. As he does so, I don't miss another dark veil settling around his already tense features before he stands up and kneels to the first person, who turns out to be a woman.

I exhale with a hiss, feeling my blood boil at the thought of what he might do to them now. Only a few days before, I had the chance to see what Leroy is capable of... 

"Buenas tardes a todos!" 

I shudder again at the sound of his voice. He sounds amused as his gaze falls unyieldingly on the woman, who shrinks her shoulders anxiously as she notices. And yet they all manage a shaky retort before lowering their heads again in awe.

Leroy clicks his tongue and grabs the woman by the chin, who flinches violently, and I jump up too at the hasty movement.  "I didn't tell you to lower your head," he murmurs, looking deep into her eyes as she only tries to nod hastily before he finally withdraws his hand. 

"Talk." He addresses this word to his two men, who have just joined him, without taking his eyes off the woman, who looks up at him from wide eyes, not even daring to blink, it seems. 

"These two men belong to the puto of the rats. Wanted to sneak into our line, the sons of bitches, to be able to deliver more information to their boss! After all, we have Alberto over there. He told us about it and brought these dogs to us, but they didn't seem to know that they were being followed by this golden beauty. She is César's very favorite wife, whom we have snatched up. Hard to believe this old fart is fucking such a hot chick," he says and starts laughing dirty towards the end, which makes me contort my face in disgust. I can't believe they just kidnapped an innocent woman! 

"Why did you follow them?", Leroy now directs his question to the woman, who gulps fearfully. Before she can answer, however, Leroy adds something with a threatening undertone. "The truth, or you'll be dead sooner than you think." 

The woman is visibly struggling for control now, but I can see the tears glistening in her eyes. "I-I am... I wanted to run away," she confesses stuttering, swallowing visibly tense.

For a moment, I feel like she wants to lower her gaze, because her head shakes so strangely, but then she freezes again as if realizing she shouldn't move.

"You wanted to run away?" repeats Leroy, sounding stunned for a moment. The blonde's blue eyes close for a small moment before she nods. Leroy draws in a sharp breath, so sharp that I can hear him even all the way here before he shakes his head. 

"What's your name?" he asks, sighing. 

"Olivia," she whispers, biting her lower lip in the next second. Leroy nods slowly, glances to his right, and clicks his tongue disapprovingly. 

"Olivia, I told you not to lie to me, didn't I?" 

Olivia's face goes pale as she shakes her head slowly in confusion. Leroy turns his head back to her and presses his lips together. 

"No, I'm telling the truth," she whispers, raising her hands suddenly as if in prayer as Leroy rises. "No, please! I'm telling you the truth, Señor!" She begs, but it's useless and she seems to realize it because Leroy is about to turn disinterestedly to the next man, but then she bends at his feet and rests her forehead on his shoes.

Irritated, I blink, while Leroy only growls that she should withdraw instantly, which she does immediately. Staring up at him with teary eyes, she pleads. 

"Don't kill me, Señor, please, I.... I'll do anything you ask of me too, anything at all," she breathes and as if to make him understand what she means by her words, she squints at his pelvis before quickly looking him in the eye again and licking her lips briefly. "I am very submissive, Señor."

Silence remains for a moment. My features slip and Leroy's men also look down at Olivia, perplexed, not believing that she has just offered herself. No one is smirking, though, and I'm not surprised, because by now I understand that Leroy expects more authority from his men. 

"Olivia," Leroy sighs one more time and kneels to her again, completely impassive and even a little bored. "I don't doubt your skills with that beautiful pink tongue of yours, but this is the Mafia, sweetheart, and you know what the Mafia has always been about? You can say a lot of things about the mafia, but if you ask a person what it means to be part of the mafia, they immediately realize one thing; they'll never get out of it. So you can't escape the mafia, my dear. When you just said you were going to run away, that's when I realized you were lying, but hey, it's hardly your fault."

Leroy raises his eyes menacingly after his little speech and looks up at his two men, who are now looking down at him, completely perplexed and scared at the same time. "Jon and Will should have just been more attentive." 

Iron silence. No one dares to say anything back and Olivia is strangely silent now too. 

"You work for César. You followed them because you're one of them, not the old sod's wife who's running away from him. Now hand me that knife, I can already see you want to pull it out at any moment to kill me." 

I gasp as I hear what he said. How can Leroy be so calm about this?

When Olivia pulls out the knife without argument and shuddering with fear, I freeze. He was right about everything. She came to kill him. I quietly suck my breath in, feeling how dry my lips are. 

If he hadn't realized it, then she could have killed him... 

And I would be free. 

But something inside me tightens at the thought and I realize that I don't want that at all. No, I don't want him dead. I want to leave him, yes, but if only his death can set me free, then I'll pass because I'm not like him. I am not a murderer... 

A gunshot shatters the silence and makes my heart skip a beat. I snap my eyes open and look out again, not even have noticed that I had averted my gaze, only recognizing how Olivia's limp body falls back and hits the ground hard. And the same thing happens to the next man within seconds.

Gasping, I press my hand to my mouth, fearing I'm about to scream. Leroy just killed the two of them. He killed them even though Olivia hadn't done anything to him. 

"This one," he shouts, and I wince violently. "Him you cauterize his feet and make him crawl back to the puto on his knees. On his back, you nail a note that is supposed to say I salute César." The stern line around the corners of his mouth disappears as they twitch in satisfaction.

While the men put Olivia and the other dead man into steel barrels as if they weigh nothing, the other man is grabbed by the shock of hair and pulled up. Before I can blink, someone is already getting another barrel with just his feet stuck in it. No matter how much he struggles, he doesn't manage to break free. And then his pain-filled screaming cuts through the nightly silence.

I realize instantly that there must be acid in the barrel.

Distraught, I open my eyes and although I want to look away so much, I am almost glued to the window instead. It's as if my subconscious wants to force me to look and tell me that this is what happens to people who upset Leroy Kingston.

Tears run down my cheek, a painful lump sits in my throat and seems to cut off my air, while I can't take my eyes off Olivia's pumps, which are still sticking up out of the barrel and are now just being squeezed in by Leroy's men before they put a lid on it.

Meanwhile, Leroy lights another cigarette and walks over to Jon and Will, who was driving the truck and just joined them earlier. 

The ones who have Olivia and the two men on their consciences, because the two of them brought them here and thus allowed Leroy to kill them. 

I force myself to bring the trembling of my body and my faltering breath back under control to some extent, but it doesn't want to work, because as if the front garden wasn't already bloody enough, Leroy now hands Jon and Will two guns and orders them to shoot each other in the leg. 

And the two do it without even hesitating. 

Screaming, they fall to their knees and drop their weapons. Leroy spits at their feet before taking another drag on his cigarette. His other hand is casually tucked into his trouser pocket as if none of this moves him one bit. And it doesn't.

Leroy Kingston is a monster. 

"If you ever make a mistake like that again, you'll shoot yourselves in the head," he says and then nods to Pablo, who, together with Mateo, takes Jon and Will away. Within seconds the front garden is cleared.

The truck is driven away, the bodies that were put in the barrel are taken away as well and the other man slowly crawls out of the gates with a white note nailed into his back.

The sight makes me sick to my stomach, which is why I hurriedly look away. 

Only Leroy and the blood remain. 

I take a shaky breath and feel the tears dripping down my chin. For a few more seconds I look at him, staring at his broad cross, defined even more by the turtleneck, move on to his large and tattooed hands before I decide to finally turn away, but just then something happens that I wanted to avoid at all costs. 

Once again this evening my heart seems to stop, I only wish it would finally decide never to start beating again, then this horror would finally come to an end. But instead, it starts beating again with such force that I get the feeling it's about to jump out of my chest. 

He turns and looks straight up at me as if he knew all along that I had been there. Swallowing, I bite my lower lip. I press my hands helplessly to my chest as if I could keep my heart from really leaping out, and I tense up. He does nothing, he says nothing. 

He just looks at me silently. 

Then; a blink, a vague movement in which he drops the cigarette and suddenly he starts walking.

I gasp as I realize that he is coming to me and turn hastily, running to the door to lock it, but there is no key in here.

Sheer panic spreads through me as I headlong struggle against the door to at least somehow prevent him from getting in, but I already know that it won't do anything for me, and yet I don't stop.

Then I listen, but there is no sound of footsteps. Is he perhaps not coming to me after all?

Have I perhaps just misunderstood...? 

Knock, knock... 

Gasping, I press my hand over my mouth to keep from screaming as he begins to knock. 

He just wants to scare you! He just wants to scare you! 

I repeat this mantra several times in my head, but it does not reduce the fear as I had hoped. My heart is pounding up to my throat as I still push the door handle up very hard so that he doesn't have the chance to push it down, but just as I feel the handle being pushed down, my strength seems to leave me with fear. 

Why are you fooling yourself? You don't stand a chance against him! 

I breathe in hard one last time before letting go of the door handle and staggering hastily back. As if paralyzed, I still stare at the door handle, waiting for him to push it down, and when it does, it seems as if my heart will now finally slip into my pants. 

Poison green eyes stare at me a few seconds later, nailing me in place. I don't make a sound as he comes in and closes the door again behind him.

It's dark, only the light of the moon illuminates the room a little so I can make out his silhouette, but as he slowly leans against the door, I recognize his face again as the moonlight now hits him there too. I can feel the beads of sweat on the back of my neck rolling down my spine, leaving goosebumps.

Every hair, no matter how fine, bristles back at the thought of what else he did earlier. 

"Why are you crying?" 

I gasp, startled, and jump when his sharp tone cuts through the silence. He's leaned his head against the door, but his eyebrows are drawn together in annoyance, and he's taxing me from half-closed lids. 

"No one forced you to watch, and yet you do, as if you're trying to goad me into killing you. Is that what you want?" he probes with interest and I immediately shake my head in response. He nods and draws in air sharply from his nose. 

"Good, because if it isn't, I'd be happy to comply with your request right after we're married." 

"W-what?", I whisper irritably. Why wouldn't he do it right away? Why wait until after the wedding? Leroy raises his eyebrows in amusement and tilts his head. 

"Why so startled? Did you think I was marrying you purely for pleasure?" 

"But for what them?", I gasp speechlessly and involuntarily take another step back. Leroy is now looking at me as if I were the stupidest person in the world. 

"But why s-sorry?", I gasp speechlessly and involuntarily take another step back. Leroy is now looking at me as if I were the dumbest person in this world. 

"If I desired you, Chica, then I would simply take what I want. I wouldn't have to marry you for that. I'm marrying you for entirely different reasons." 

I stare at him for a few seconds before shaking my head and closing my eyes in exhaustion. I feel anger creeping up between all the fear at his words. Again he speaks only in riddles, but not today!

I no longer have the strength for it. "Well, too bad I'm not going to marry you, you fucking psycho," I growl softly, rubbing my forehead. I don't know where the courage comes from, but what I do know is that I don't want this murderer anywhere near me.

I just want him to leave me alone and stay away from me, then maybe I won't die of a panic attack soon. 

Just as I am about to tell him to leave, his heavy breath hits me in the face.

Startled, I open my eyes and merely brush against his poison green eyes before I feel a firm grip on my arm and am whirled around.

I yelp as he presses me against him until I feel his steel-hard chest against my back, still hearing him open the window in seconds and suddenly throw me out.

I don't even have the chance to scream, I'm too shocked that he's throwing me out of the second floor, but at that moment a jolt goes through my body and I feel Leroy digging his fingernails into my skin. I slowly open my watery eyes and take a careful breath. He is still holding me by the arm. 

Stunned, I look up at him as he relaxes and lights a cigarette.

The third one in a few minutes. 

"I love games, you know? And right now I feel like playing with you, chica."

☼ ❅

"Buenas tardes a todos!" - Good afternoon everyone!


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